


Hale Yes!

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Community: abiteoffcenter, F/M, Fluff, Oblivious, Oblivious Stiles, Pining, Romance, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Cora Hale it was love at first sight when she saw Stiles Stilinski. Unfortunately for her, she's just Derek's little sister in his eyes. After three years, she's hoping that his first summer home from college might be the one where she finally stops being the forgettable Hale, and he notices her for herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hale Yes!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, this prompt! I fell in love with it, and had to have it, and I'm so glad I picked it up because this was an absolute blast to write. I had so much fun trying to think what the characters would be like without their forging moments (being wolves, the fire) and extrapolating from what we knew. I will say, I messed around with the ages a bit in order to make it flow better.
> 
> Thank you so much to my alpha and beta readers! <3
> 
> As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

Cora Hale is fifteen the first time she meets Stiles Stilinski. He’s out front with Derek, learning how to use the cappuccino machine, and she’s in the back of the shop with Mom, tying her apron on and promising that she’ll listen to everything Derek says and of course she won’t argue with Laura and _MOM_ , just stop treating her like a child.

She stops dead when she spots him, hands on the strings of the apron behind her back, and stares as Stiles gestures with long, expressive fingers, talking a mile a minute. Her head is cocked, her mouth slightly open, and when Mom nudges her slightly, she jumps and quickly ties the strings.

“I’m going to marry him, Mom,” she says quickly. “Someday, I will. You’ll see.”

Then she goes out to take her first shift in the coffee shop that her family has owned since long before she was born, learning to shout, “Hale yes!” every time someone comes in and orders, juggling pastries and hot cups, all the while mooning over the amber-eyed boy who doesn’t even know she exists.

It’s funny how things start out sometimes.

#

He calls her _little sister_ for three summers in a row, and she tries not to be insulted by the words. “I’m more than a little sister,” she reminds him during that third summer, hip-checking him on her way by, lifting a sheet pan high over their heads before lowering it so that she can take pastries off of it and tuck them into the case on the proper plates. He isn’t even looking at her, head down and focused on the foam of the cup in front of him.

His tongue pokes out between his teeth, a faint flush under the moles that spatter across his cheeks, as he works quickly before the foam deflates. When it is done, she sees the perfect triskele that he has drawn, the twisted lines bright and dark. She doesn’t even have to ask.

“Hey, Derek!” she calls out, looking at the door to the back office. “Your coffee’s ready!”

“It could have been for Laura,” Stiles says quickly. “Or… or for you.”

Cora rolls her eyes. “You don’t hero worship Laura, and she doesn’t drink that coffee. And you’d never think to make one for me.” She goes back to meticulously stacking the lemon poppy muffins in the case, making a perfect pyramid. “Obviously it’s for Derek. I just can’t figure out if you have a crush on him or if you want to _be_ him.” She shrugs one shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s the latter. He’s too straight for it to be the former.”

“We’ve been friends a long time—oh hey, Derek.” Stiles straightens up as Derek comes in to pick up the coffee. 

Derek is as Derek as he ever has been… he barely glances at the carefully constructed triskele, noting it with a nod and a grin as he tilts the cup at Stiles, then takes a quick gulp, ending up with foam on his nose. He wipes it off quickly. “Thanks. New shirt?”

Cora hadn’t even noticed, but she looks now as Stiles quickly unwraps the apron strings and pulls it off to show off the hand-screened t-shirt. The official Hale Yes! uniform shirt has always said _Have we got the best coffee? Hale yes!_ Every employee wears one, along with a big button saying just Hale Yes! But Stiles sometimes manages to get away with creating his own shirts, making up cute sayings that fit the theme, and Mom never seems to mind. With Derek and Laura mostly in charge over the summers, Stiles can get away with anything he likes.

Today’s shirt says _Are our buns the best? Hale yes!_ and Cora flushes at the innuendo. There are a small pile of sticky buns on the sheet pan she holds and her gaze skitters from that to Stiles’s backside and back to the buns. The _edible_ buns.

It’s not helping. Nor is the way Derek is laughing and Stiles is flushed and laughing too, promising to make a shirt for Derek and another one for Laura when she calls out from the back, asking what all the fuss is for. They don’t think to include Cora, which is usual, she supposes. She’s just the little sister, easily overlooked and forgotten and certainly not possessed of any sort of remarkable buns.

Stiles heads into the back while the shop is quiet, and Cora can hear the three of them laughing. She picks up one of the sticky buns and bites into it, and tries not to flush when a customer walks in to find her licking her lips and trying to see her reflection in the case to determine whether her own backside is anything to to shout about (it isn’t). She fumbles cleaning her hands while taking an order, shouting “Hale, yes!” and ringing it up while Stiles rushes to the front again to make up the double half-caf mochaccino with skim. Her knight comes rushing to her rescue, except not.

By the time the rush is done, Stiles and Derek and Laura are chatting again, her sticky bun is getting stale, and Cora is forgotten. Again.

#

The end of that third summer brings a flurry of activity as they try to get ready for a surprise party. Everyone in the shop is involved, and even a few that don’t work there are helping out. Isaac is Cora’s classmate, new to the shop that summer, and he spent half of it mooning over Scott (Stiles’s best friend) who doesn’t know he exists. Allison and Scott are helping, even though they don’t work there; they’ve spent enough time there and the party is for Stiles after all. Even Cora’s youngest brother Sam, who idolizes Stiles, is determinedly helping hang decorations while the shop is closed.

They’ve had this planned for weeks, shutting down the shop on the last Monday of the summer so that they can “clean things up.” They take the morning to decorate while Laura creates the perfect tray of cupcakes in the back, and Derek runs out to pick up a gift (or three or four). By the time it’s all done, Stiles walks in with a shout of hello and stops dead, shocked by the array before him.

“Surprise!” Laura yells it first, grabbing him and kissing his cheek, then Derek and Sam. By the time everyone else has managed to say something, Stiles is reeling and Cora hangs back, not sure how to worm her way in. 

“Dude, this is amazing. I didn’t expect anything.” Stiles shakes his head, looking from the small stack of gifts to the cupcake tree that Cora has arranged perfectly, to the smiling faces all around him. He raises one hand, dashing it against his suspiciously damp eyes, and Derek and Scott clap him on the back. “I’m just going to college. I’ll be back next summer.”

“And your job will be waiting for you. We always need more help in the summer,” Mom tells him.

Cora hopes that’s true, but she’s seen people go away to college before. When Boyd and Erica left, they never did come back, and that’s when Isaac was hired. But Stiles has been here for so long, he’s almost part of the family, and she hopes that never changes. Everyone has gotten used to him being around (and Allison and Scott hanging out in the shop because of him). He’s a fixture.

And Cora doesn’t know what she’d do if he simply disappeared.

She catches him near the end of the party, when he sits off to one side with his third cupcake in hand and a smudge of frosting on his cheek. She leans against the table and almost reaches for it before she pulls back and smiles slightly. “Frosting,” she says, and points. 

He wipes it off with his thumb, putting it in his mouth to suck it clean, and for a moment, Cora forgets how to speak. It was so innocent when they first met, but the older she gets, the more _aware_ of him she becomes. She wants to say something, to explain how she feels, but she is terrified he won’t feel the same way. So she glances down at her (serviceable) shoes and tries to summon another smile. “Are you excited to go to college?”

“Berkeley is going to be incredible.” He spreads his hands, entire expression alight with excitement. “Scott and I are rooming together, and I figure he’ll be spending most of his time with Allison, so I’ll get my own room.”

“Or they’ll be in your room all the time,” Cora points out.

“In which case, I’ll get to know the library. My friend Lydia is going there, too, so we’ll study together.”

It’s that flush that she knows so well, and this time it happens when he says Lydia’s name. Her heart falls. “Oh. Lydia?”

“Yeah, that strawberry blond that comes in sometimes?” He waits for Cora to follow along, and when she doesn’t, he says, “The caramel with the double shot of espresso, almond milk, and the two extra shots of vanilla, topped with a dusting of cinnamon.”

“Oh. Her.” Cora remembers her, all designer clothes and perfection. “I didn’t realize you were friends.”

“It’s complicated. I’m thinking things might change when we’re in college.”

He looks so hopeful that her heart hurts, and she only wants what’s best for him. “If she doesn’t want you, she’s an idiot and blind,” Cora says firmly, and Stiles flushes again. “I mean, if that’s what you want,” she adds hurriedly.

“It is. It’s just… I don’t talk about it. She’s so far out of my league.”

Cora blinks, because how can he not realize how amazing he is? “She isn’t. No one is, except maybe straight guys who aren’t interested because well, they’re straight. And have had girlfriends for two years now.” Her voice lowers. “Stiles, just… don’t settle for nothing because you’re waiting for something else, okay? Derek’s got Paige, and they’re kind of sweet together, and if Lydia’s too much of an idiot to realize how incredible you are, don’t waste your time pining after her.”

He knocks her shoulder with his. “And when am I going to hear about the guy whose heart you’ve walked all over?”

“There isn’t anyone,” Cora lies through her teeth. 

“What about Isaac?”

She has to laugh. “Are you blind? Isaac has a thing for Scott, who is wrapped up in Allison, who kind of has a thing for Isaac. It’s like having a soap opera every time they walk in here. They’ve kept me entertained all summer.”

“Really?” Stiles cranes his head to find where the three sit, Isaac leaning back, his long legs somehow knocking against Scott’s under the table. Scott is entirely focused on Allison, who is managing to split her time between both boys, her attention avid and interested. “I’m sure that’ll stop when Scott goes away.”

“Because we all fall out of love when the guy we’re interested in leaves.” It’s a sharp dig, made sharper because Cora has _watched_ over all these years. Stiles pining after Derek when he left for college two years ago, and now Isaac pining after Scott. She won’t even mention herself, she won’t even _think_ about herself. 

It’s easier to think what idiots _they_ are than it is to remind herself not to be that idiot.

“Email me?” she says, the words slipping out before she can reconsider them. “I mean, in case you need someone to talk to who isn’t Scott or Allison or my idiot brother or sister. Laura will probably be a complete bitch, anyway, since she’s trying to get her thesis done so she can graduate and she’s already started panicking about that. And you know what a jerk Derek is when he’s with his teammates.”

Her older sister is about to graduate with a double major in biochemistry and applied physics and her brother is the star on the basketball team; it’s no wonder Cora fades into the woodwork whenever they’re around. Even Sam, with his piano playing prodigy talent, is something special.

But Stiles doesn’t question what she says, just takes out his phone and sends her a text with his email address. They all have each others’ numbers—it’s a requirement as a part of employment so they can trade shifts when necessary. She bites her lip and texts him back with her own address. Whether it happens or not, she tried.

The problem is, Cora Hale is the forgettable Hale. She’s sure he’ll never email her. Not once he gets to Berkeley and is surrounded by all the new experiences of his freshman year.

#

The worst part is, she’s right.

August passes into September, then October, then November… and there are no emails. No texts, nothing. Periodically she hears from Derek, and it’s all about basketball and Paige and a line or two maybe about seeing Stiles on campus. Sometimes Laura squeezes in a bit about Stiles and cookies (Cora doesn’t understand where the cookie bit is coming from), in between lengthy treatises on the subject of her thesis that Cora doesn’t understand.

Isaac hears from Scott and Allison more than Cora hears from anyone.

Forgotten, again.

It takes until April before it bursts out in a stream of frustrated noise, because everyone she knows that’s gone off to school has also gone off to spring break somewhere _else_. And she is left cleaning up every afternoon (now that she’s a senior, she puts in her time at the coffee shop after school every day, just like her older siblings did) in the shop, and getting in early to bake before school, and she’s realizing… she has no life that isn’t about the shop.

This is it.

She hasn’t even sent out a college application because she has no idea what it is that she wants to _do_.

Isaac finds her in the back room, surrounded by untallied receipts, the mixer whirring and forgotten as it spins up cookie dough. She sits at the desk, staring at the wall, and doesn’t even twitch when his hand falls on her shoulder.

“You don’t look so good.”

“Not all of us look like models,” she retorts.

“That’s not what I meant.” His fingers dig in and her head drops; after a number of evenings spent in the shop, Isaac has learned how to rub her shoulders _exactly_ right, and it makes Cora moan softly as he digs out the tension. “You’re worse than usual.”

“Oh thanks, it’s nice to know I have a usual level of bad.” She can’t help it, she’s cranky. She deserves to be.

“Again, not what I mean.” He lets her go and pulls up a chair. “So tell me about it.”

And she does, from the lack of college applications to the fact that she’s the forgettable Hale to the idea that she has no concept who she is or who she even wants to be. The only thing she leaves out is _Stiles_ because really, Isaac doesn’t need to know that she’s been hopelessly in love with the same boy for years. She ends with a sigh. “I can’t even understand why my parents haven’t been pressuring me about it. They were all over Laura until she got her scholarship and her research grants, and they pushed Derek right into the basketball scouts’ loving arms. They’ve already lined up auditions for Sam at Juilliard, I swear, and they’ll make plans to move out there for him when he goes, but they’ve _forgotten_ me. They’ve forgotten their own daughter.”

“You have middle-child syndrome.”

She glares at Isaac. “Don’t make fun of me. Because it is _not_ funny.”

He raises both eyebrows. “I’m the guy who is knocking himself out trying to get a guy to notice me, and yes, I know you know this and did you know that Allison knows? It’s getting weirder by the minute, but she claims I’m too young, since my eighteenth birthday isn’t until July.”

Cora blinks. “So what you’re telling me is that as of July, your life will officially be less pathetic than mine.”

“No.” Isaac pauses. “Well. Maybe. But. If you’re tired of not being noticed, and not knowing what you want to do, then maybe you need to change it. You’ve been working here since what… three years ago now? This’ll be your fourth summer in the shop, and you know they’re all coming back, except for Laura. Derek will be in charge again, and you’ll be out front, stocking the pastry cabinet and yelling _Hale yes!_ to every single person that walks in that door. Maybe you should say yes to yourself for once.”

He makes it sound so _reasonable_. “But I like being here,” she admits. “I like the shop. I’m actually _good_ at doing this. We’ve got three new recipes in the cabinet because I made them.”

“Then own _that_ ,” he says, and when he grins, she has to grin back at him. She loves that about Isaac, how infectious his smile is. “Just let yourself shine, Cora. You’re amazing. It’s just that you’re the only one who doesn’t know it.”

No one has ever said that to her before.

Ever.

She blinks when he leaves her alone, and she goes back to sorting through her receipts, tallying up the day’s take. She makes careful notes in the ledgers, makes sure everything balances out, and leaves notes for her parents in the morning so that they will know what should be coming in when the inventory order arrives. Then she decides to stay late, because it’s time to create some new baked goods.

Maybe when they all get back in May, they won’t overlook her.

Maybe she can be more than just that dorky little sister.

Nobody will forget Cora Hale, not this time.

#

The first day of summer shifts begins while Cora is still in school, the college kids coming home before she graduates. She’s still struggling with finals while they are settling in to new roles, Scott joining the staff with Stiles and Derek at the shop. She walks in after school with Isaac, and finds Derek in the back up to his elbows in cookie dough, yelling something about the recipe being off.

 _Her_ recipe, and he’s screwing it all up.

“I left plenty of cookies already made this morning!” she yells, trying to pull him away from the mixer. “And you’re doing it wrong. Try following the recipe, idiot!”

“You are _not_ in charge here, pipsqueak.” He manages to get an arm around her shoulder, pushes her toward the door. “We have Mom’s recipes, the way things have always been done.”

“Maybe things changed while you were gone!” She stands in the doorway, still yelling at him. “I’m eighteen, I’m _not_ a child, and you weren’t here! This was _my shop_ while you were at school, and it’s still _my shop_ now.”

He leans in close and nudges her head until she’s forced to take a step back. “No, it’s not. I’ll be managing it until I go back, so just get used to it. Summer is when Mom and Dad get their vacation.”

“Well, you don’t have Laura to help and it’s supposed to be _two_ Hales, so I guess you’ll just have to put up with me.” Cora smiles as sweetly as she can manage, her hands planted on her hips. “You can take back doing the books; they’re boring. I’ll handle the baking. Besides, you know you want to handle the front with Stiles.”

“Did I hear my name?” Stiles pokes his head into the back, and oh God, he went and grew his hair out. Cora didn’t get to see him over winter break, so it’s the first time she’s seen him since he left, and the buzz cut is now grown into a slight wave. He grins. “Are you two fighting already? It’s going to be a long summer if you do that the entire time.”

“Derek’s being an ass and trying to take over when I’ve had everything under control since you guys left.” The words spill out before she can stop them, and she sees Stiles blink in the face of her anger. She flushes brightly. “I mean. I made changes. Our parents are okay with them, so Derek, you shouldn’t just not _do_ them.”

“Isaac was just telling Scott about the fantastic new muffin recipes Cora developed,” Stiles says, winking at her. “Sounds like she’s been having fun while we were gone.”

He paid attention to what Isaac said about her. Cora can’t help the smile that beams out, then quickly fades when Stiles turns away from her, reaching out to catch Derek’s shoulder. “C’mon, big guy,” Stiles says. “Come out front and we’ll get everything organized. After that, you and Cora sit down and hash out who’s doing what this summer while Scott, Isaac and I take care of the rest.”

Derek grumbles, but he goes with Stiles and leaves Cora alone in the back room that she’s started to think of as _hers_. She pulls down the battered notebook where she’s been keeping notes on the recipe variations as she tries each one, and looks at the dough Derek has left her with. One of Mom’s recipe cards is on the counter, with Cora’s careful notes and changes, and flour is spread everywhere. With a sigh, she starts to repair the damage Derek has done, getting the batter mixing before she settles in with her notes and research. She’s been working on a raspberry oatmeal crunch bar, and she’s pretty sure she knows what changes she needs to make to get the right mix of a chewy bar and a bright pop of raspberry and the crunchy bits for the top, and she updates the script in her book then starts pulling ingredients out for a small batch.

“How’s it going?”

She turns in surprise when she hears Stiles’s voice, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Better. I’m about to get cookies in the oven, if you want to help scoop them out. Scoop’s there, pans are there.” She points at the workbench. “The cooking time’s a little different than before, but it’s noted on the card.” She bites her lip. “Thanks for earlier.”

“Derek never really has liked change.” Stiles shrugs. “And it’s probably hard for him to see you growing up. He’s going to have to deal with it when you go to college next year.”

Apparently Isaac hasn’t been spilling everything about her. Cora licks her lips and quickly gets up to unhitch the mixing bowl and plunk it on the counter for Stiles. She points to it, and is a little surprised when he starts scooping without question, taking direction easily. She tucks another mixing bowl into the space in the mixer and scrapes in her butter and sugars. “I’m not going to college,” she says, looking down.

“What?” Stiles turns, mid-scoop, brandishing the scoop full of cookie dough at her. “Cora, do _not_ let Derek get to you. He’s just being a jerk, and you are as intelligent a Hale as him and Laura and why the _hell_ aren’t you going to college?”

She can hear the shock and disappointment, and she doesn’t want to look up to see it too, so she just shrugs one shoulder and flips the mixer on, glad for the noise it provides. “I didn’t apply. I mean, I don’t know what I want to _do_ , and my folks didn’t seem to care, and I’ve kind of liked working here this year and Mom and Dad have been happy with the work I’ve done, and the changes I’ve made. So I guess I’ll just take care of the shop and figure things out after that.”

“You could go for a business degree,” Stiles points out, and Cora finally looks at him in some surprise. “Or a culinary degree. I tasted one of those gluten free muffins you made—the hazelnut blueberry one with chia seeds—that thing was incredible. Nutty and flaky and fruity. Isaac said you’ve been working on a lot of alternative recipes. How are you managing the potential for cross-contamination and allergens?”

“We already state that nuts are a potential allergen in the shop.” Cora grabs the eggs and cracks two in while the mixer continues to whirl. “We have a statement that we do our best but things do use the same cooking gear and I don’t have a nut free counter. But I do have a wheat free counter.” She points to the side. “Over there, I scrubbed it down and I store all my gluten free flours and nut meals there, and I do all the gluten free work there, so nothing should get picked up when I’m making things. I actually gave one couple a tour because they were trying to decide if it was safe for her to eat, and they complimented us after on our efforts and they were happy when she didn’t get sick. They recommended us to a few other people, and we’ve been getting some new traffic because of it.” Her cheeks are warm and she’s sure they’re red, but it really does feel good to be doing something that the other big coffee chains haven’t been.

“Wow.” Stiles scoops cookies efficiently, dropping balls of dough and mashing them down slightly with the back of the scoop in an easy motion. Once he has two sheets done, he slides them into the oven before scooping out the last two trays and leaving them on the counter, waiting. “I’m impressed.”

“Derek isn’t.” 

“Derek hasn’t stopped long enough to listen,” Stiles says. “He’s a dick sometimes, and you know it.”

“No one believes that I’ve grown up.” Cora stops the mixer so she can add the next set of ingredients. While they whir, she prepares the crunchy topping in another bowl, and makes sure the raspberries are clean and dry to be folded in.

“Isaac does. It seems like you two have grown close while we were all gone?”

Cora hears the faint lilt in Stiles’s voice, asking it like a question, and she shakes her head. Of _course_ Stiles thinks she has something going on with Isaac. The whole _school_ thought that last year with the amount of time they spent together, and how comfortable they are in each other’s company. “It’s not like that. You know I’m not the one he wants.”

“But you want him?”

She looks over, startled. “No. Isaac’s like a brother, only nice. It’s not like that at all.”

“There must be someone.” Stiles finishes the last of the cookies and puts the empty bowl in the sink, spraying water into it so it can soak. “You can’t tell me that nobody—”

“There’s no one.” Cora cuts him off, because she doesn’t like this line of questioning. “I mean really, there’s no one. Not anyone who’d notice me anyway.” Then she presses her lips tight, so nothing else even more potentially embarrassing can escape.

Of course, Stiles catches on to her turn of phrase. “So there’s _someone_ ,” he teases. “Someone you like but who’s too much of an idiot to pay attention. You have to tell me who he is so I can knock some sense into him.”

The idea of Stiles hitting himself is amusing enough that Cora laughs before she can hold it in. Stiles looks affronted. “What, you don’t think I can defend your honor?” he asks.

“You don’t need to,” she assures him. “I mean, it’s okay. Things will change someday and he’ll notice me. I figure I’ll start by being friends. Friends make the best lovers, right?”

Stiles’s eyes go wide, and he blinks at her, his cheeks going red before he looks away. “I’m not sure I’m all that comfortable thinking about you with a lover.”

“Up front!” Scott’s voice cuts through the sudden silence, and Stiles pushes away from the counter, relief in his expression.

“Sounds like they need help. Bring those raspberry things up when they’re done; I want to try one.” He doesn’t give her a chance to respond before he ducks out, leaving Cora alone in the back with her recipes and a ticking timer for the cookies.

Something just happened, but she isn’t sure what. She just hopes it was good.

#

Cora is taking her lunch break at a corner table when Allison and the girl she figures must be Lydia join her. They sit with their backs to the counter, effectively blocking Cora from view, and Allison offers a kind smile while Lydia tilts her head, lips pursed slightly.

“I don’t know,” Lydia says. “I think it’s a stretch.”

“We promised Isaac,” Allison tells her. “And in the end, it’s up to Cora.”

“What’s up to Cora?” She frowns at the girls, trying to figure out what’s going on. They are the kind of girls she never really hung out with at school. Everyone had a clique, except for the few that fell between the cracks. Cora was never a jock, not a brain, not one of the popular girls because honestly, she just didn’t care that much about trying so hard to look good. “I’m not a project, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Isaac told me that there’s a guy you like.” Allison’s expression is earnest, and Cora decides to focus on her. It’s easier than looking at Lydia, who _does_ make Cora think she’s some kind of experiment, like Lydia is taking her apart and classifying exactly how to put her back together. “We thought maybe we could help get his attention.”

Oh. Crap.

“No, really, I’m fine.” Cora takes another bite of the sandwich she made in the back, an experiment with fresh wheat free bread and home grown tomatoes. Not that Mom’s approved serving sandwiches yet, but Cora figures she needs to have everything sorted before she can even pitch the concept.

“Whoever he is, he’s probably oblivious.” Lydia taps one nail on the table sharply to get her attention. “Most men are, particularly men our age. You’ll need to do something drastic to attract his attention. Possibly the emotional equivalent of dropping a brick on his head.”

“No, really, _I’m fine_.” Cora repeats the words like the other girls might actually listen this time. “It’s just a stupid crush.” Even if it’s not. Even if they’re talking about _Stiles_. “Besides, he’s interested in someone else. Multiple someone elses who aren’t me.”

“Oh no.” Allison touches her fingers to her lips. “It isn’t Isaac, is it? Because honestly, between you and me, Scott’s just insisting on waiting until he’s of age, which doesn’t make any sense to me; it’s not like he’s all that much more than a year older than him. It’s probably my fault since I’m older than I should be. Moved around a lot when I was younger, so I had to repeat a year.”

Cora sets the sandwich down with a sigh. “And just like that you confirm that as of July seventeenth, Isaac’s life will officially be less pathetic than mine. Thanks.” She looks at Allison, nose wrinkled. “Wait. Both of you? I mean, you’ve hashed this out between you?”

Allison shrugs. “Sometimes things don’t happen quite the way you think they will. Like, let’s take Lydia falling for an asshole lacrosse player who likes to pretend he’s an idiot. No wait… that’s a match made in heaven.”

“We enjoy being bitchy together, and it makes it much simpler when we don’t have to hide our genius from each other,” Lydia points out.

“Stiles isn’t an asshole,” Cora blurts out.

“Stiles?” Lydia gives her an odd look. “Who said anything about Stiles? My boyfriend’s name is Jackson.”

“Oh. Of course.” Because she probably wasn’t supposed to let that slip. And now Lydia’s looking at her as if she’s a bug under a microscope, a slow smile starting to bloom that lights her expression.

“Oh, I see,” Lydia murmurs. “Our wee Hale has it bad for Stilinski.”

Cora’s heart drops into her shoes. “Shut _up_.”

“He’s cute, if you’re into that. A bit dorky.”

“Well, so am I.” Cora licks her lips. “I’m planning a Star Wars marathon with Isaac this weekend, if I can figure out how to get Derek out of the basement.”

“And Stiles keeps yelling at Scott because he hasn’t seen it yet. He’s been threatening to…” Allison grins. “Invite us.”

“But you probably hate Star Wars.” Cora can not see the point to this, nor understand why it’s happening to _her_.

“It’s not my favorite,” Lydia admits. “But then, science fiction tends to be riddled with scientific fallacies and mathematical impossibilities. On the other hand, it is _Stiles’s_ favorite, and he wants Scott to see it, which means if you invite us, we will bring Scott and Stiles, and probably Jackson.”

“Feel free to punch him if he says something terrible,” Allison says. “Jackson, I mean.”

“I will,” Cora assures her. “And like I said, Isaac will be there.” She glances at Allison. “In case you don’t really want to wait until July.”

“Good, then we’re all set. What time should we begin?” Lydia pulls out her phone, thumbs sliding over the screen to make the appointment.

“I was going to start around ten on Friday night, maybe a little earlier if Mom and Dad make good on their promise of giving me the night off.” Cora makes a face. “Except Stiles and Scott and Isaac will need to work.”

“I’ll make those arrangements,” Lydia tells her. “You’ll all have Friday off when I’m done, and of course, you have Saturday and Sunday off. Simply tell your parents that this is your adorably dorky way of celebrating your graduation from high school.” She puts her phone in her purse and stands. “We’ll see you at seven on Friday. Make certain to order plenty of pizza, and don’t skimp on the caffeinated sodas. I have to think that everyone’s probably sick of coffee by now.”

Lydia hooks her arm in Allison’s, and the two walk off together, and Cora is left to wonder what exactly happened here, and how she’s suddenly hosting a Star Wars themed movie party for almost everyone in the shop, and their friends.

#

Stiles walks in on Friday morning wearing a hand-screened t-shirt that says _Is the Force strong in this one? Hale yes!_ and tosses another shirt to Cora. It’s still early, and the shop is filled with the scent of scones as she tries to get one more batch finished before the shop opens. It takes her a moment to realize what he’s done, then she opens the shirt with shaky fingers to look at the lettering.

_Have we got a treat for your tongue? Hale yes!_

She flushes brightly and holds it to her chest with both hands. “Thank you.”

“It’s for your new recipes.” He gestures with those long, fluid fingers, and her gaze follows the track of his hand. “You’re our culinary genius. You deserve a shirt to reflect that. And this…” He spreads his hands. “This is because I’ve been told that _someone_ is helping Isaac seduce Scott and Allison over a marathon showing of my favorite movies, which also helps _me_ because Scott has somehow never seen them. Not even the more recent awful ones.”

“I have all six.” Cora can’t put the shirt down, even though she knows she needs to before the timer rings for the oven. “If anyone wants to just stay through, we can start with the oldest and start the second trilogy as soon as we finish the first. If anyone’s really up for that terrible level of acting.”

“Oh, Ani!” Stiles cries, hand on his chest, and Cora laughs. They really, truly, are terrible movies in her opinion, nothing like the originals. On the other hand, she wants to see them with Stiles and have fun talking through them and over them.

In her fantasies, Scott, Isaac and Allison have had enough after the first three and head out together, and her friend ends up happy with both of his crushes. Then Lydia and Jackson leave, maybe earlier, since she thinks Lydia is only in it because of Allison. Which leaves Stiles and Cora alone in the basement, at least until Derek decides to come down and interfere. Which he will, because he’s Derek, and since Paige is in France for the summer he’s at loose ends and playing best friends with Stiles out of sheer boredom.

“Derek doesn’t appreciate Star Wars.” She glances at Stiles, curious about his reaction.

“I know! I’m surrounded by Philistines.” He shakes his head. “None of them know good stories when they see them. How can I call these people my friends?” He sighs heavily. “It’s a good thing we’ll be fixing that tonight, huh? How did Allison and Lydia get involved in this, anyway?”

“Allison told me about Scott not having seen them.” Which isn’t entirely a lie, but is treading far too close to the truth about _why_ the girls were talking to her in the first place. “Isaac and I had already made plans to stay up all night watching the movies, so it sort of snowballed from there.”

“You know, I never knew you were a Star Wars fan.”

“There might be a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Cora smirks when he laughs. “Try paying a little more attention.”

“Maybe I will.” He nudges her shoulder. “Go on and get changed, and I’ll get everything set up out front.” He ties his apron with expert touch, almost, but not quite, hiding the words on his shirt. “We are about to be invaded by hungry, cranky, grumpy, tired people who need their caffeine.”

She hurries to the bathroom and quickly skins off her shirt, replacing it with the new one. She smooths it down and admires the words in the mirror, then ties on her apron and heads out to the front of the shop.

There’s a cup of coffee sitting on the counter when she gets there, the Hale triskelion carefully created in the foam, the cup tucked off to one side where it won’t be in the way. “Thank you,” Cora murmurs as she hurries to pull pastry orders for patrons, while Stiles fixes the coffee.

“For what? It must have been the coffee elves stopping by. Their way of thanking you for introducing Scott to the wonders of Jedi mind tricks.”

Of course, that’s all it is, a thank you for helping him out with his friend. But Cora treasures it all the same, and sips at her coffee (perfectly made, exactly the way she likes it) between orders, and she looks forward to the evening of having Stiles and her friends in her home.

#

“Now tell me, _why_ exactly are you here, and Stiles is over there?” Lydia settles on the loveseat, wiggling into the small space left where Cora sits cross-legged. “Are you trying to discourage him?”

Cora throws a sharp glare. “We’re not talking about this,” she hisses. “Not here, not while the movie’s on, not while someone could _hear_.”

Lydia examines a nail. “Make more of a fuss; he’s more likely to notice the conversation when you’re outraged. If he thinks we’re exchanging beauty tips he’ll ignore us.”

“Since when do we even _talk_?”

“Point.” Lydia tilts her hand, the gesture conceding that one item. “However, your crush happens to be sprawled on a sofa between his two best friends, who appear to be monopolizing him. Not only does this affect _your_ agenda, it also affects Allison, who cannot possibly manage to achieve her goal with Isaac and Scott if Stiles and Derek are sprawled all over him.”

Cora glances at the sofa and really, it’s not Scott’s fault. It’s all Stiles, who just seems to take up more space when he’s comfortable, and Derek who lets him. Derek who leads him on, _knowing_ he’s had a crush on him since forever, even though Derek’s dating Paige. Derek who… she bites her lip before she says something out loud. “Fine. But don’t hate me for being obvious about Allison.”

She picks up a peanut out of the bowl on the table next to her and lobs it, bouncing it off of Derek’s forehead. When he turns to glare at her, she simply smiles. “Get up, beast, and let Allison sit next to her boyfriend.” Because Allison is handily loitering near the sofa, obviously waiting for a moment when she can get a chance to move in close to Scott.

“I’m not the one taking up all the space.” Derek jerks a thumb at Stiles. “Tell this lump to move; he’s the one lying on top of me.”

“Like you mind.” Stiles pokes Derek.

“I’m used to you using me as a pillow.”

“Every night during finals.” Stiles laughs. “You saved me when I was locked out because _someone_ was having stress sex constantly.”

Allison’s cheeks flush bright red, but that’s not what bothers Cora. What bothers Cora is that somehow, at college, Derek is making it _worse_. “You stayed in his room?” Cora asks, before thought catches up with her tongue.

Stiles blinks. “Um. Yeah?”

“You are such an ass.” The words are directed at Derek just before she stands up and dumps the nearest popcorn bowl over his head. Cora stands there in front of him, one finger jabbing at his chest before Derek can stand up, and she ignores the angry glare or rising growl. “You are an _ass_ , beast. You’ve been doing it for _years_ and you just don’t _care_ who you hurt and you never _see_ anything and I just can’t… I can’t… I can’t believe you’re even my _brother_.”

“I’m glad I brought more popcorn.”

Isaac stands in the doorway, two bowls in his hands, and the movie plays on in the background, music rising over some dramatic moment. Cora’s breath is rough, and her hands are shaking as everyone stares at her. They don’t know what she’s talking about, she’s sure, not even Derek, but it doesn’t matter. She said something. She finally _said_ something.

“What the hell did I do?” Derek raises his hands, and Cora huffs at him, stalking off to the kitchen. She doesn’t care anymore because she can’t actually _do_ anything. She just needs to get away and breathe.

This night is not going anything like what she’d hoped, and she wants to blame Derek, but really, it’s all her own fault. She’s the one who doesn’t have the guts to make a move.

“Hey.”

She turns, eyes going wide because _Stiles_ is in the doorway. He reaches up and unhooks the small hook that normally keeps the kitchen door open so people don’t bump into it, and he tugs it closed. Cora bites her lip, because if he’s looking for privacy, she has a horrible feeling she’s going to get yelled at.

She leans back against the counter, fingers curled over the marble, holding on tight. Her gaze drops to the floor as her cheeks heat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s not like that.”

“What?” She risks looking up at him, and he’s just as flushed as she is, his hair spiked where he’s run his fingers through it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I get it, he’s not into me. I got it a long time ago,” Stiles says. He takes up the spot next to her, echoing her position, leaning back against the marble counter. It lets him look at the ceiling instead of her. “Maybe he thinks he’s got me dangling, or maybe he really likes it that I’m a puppy dog around him, but I know I’m never going to get anything. I can sleep on his shoulder without being hopeful that it means he’s going to want more.”

She crosses her arms tight against her chest, a ward against the hurt. “I really don’t want to think about the idea of you and my brother,” she says quietly. “I mean, not that it’ll ever happen.” She winces. “Sorry, I mean, you know that, but I don’t have to rub your face in it. He loves Paige, in his own stupid, idiotic self-centered way. And in that same way, he loves you because you’re one of his best friends now.”

“Just like Lydia has Jackson, and Isaac has Scott and Allison, or he will once Scott gets his head out of his ass.”

“You liked Isaac too?” It just _hurts_ to hear that. Cora would be thrilled that Stiles is talking to her more, but the part where he’s telling her all about his failed crushes is _not_ helping. “No wonder you kept asking if him and me are a thing.”

“No, that was me being honestly clueless.” Stiles spreads his hands, and one passes in front of Cora’s vision and she follows the track of his fingers. “You spend so much time together, I really did figure he’d moved on from them and the two of you had—”

“No,” Cora says quickly. “Tonight’s really about him and Scott and Allison. I’m helping.”

“I think I saw Allison steal my seat when I got up.” He tilts his head back, looking over at her. “And I never had a thing for Isaac. He’s not really my type.”

“You like bitches and assholes?”

“If I liked assholes, I’d go for Jackson.” He flashes a grin, and Cora tries to smile because it’s kind of a joke. His smile turns wry. “Sometimes it’s easier to like someone who isn’t attainable. Or who has faults. It makes it easier when they don’t like you back.”

She elbows him before she talks herself out of it. “You should try liking someone nice. You might be surprised.”

“Hah.” His tone is dry. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly anyone’s _type_. I’m the funny best friend. The dependable one. The guy who can find anything online.”

“Have you _looked_ at yourself?” She asks. He looks at her in surprise at her outburst, and heat rises to her cheeks but she makes herself continue. “You’re a _nice_ guy, Stiles. You’re the kind of guy who makes surprise t-shirts, and who makes coffee for a friend, and you do favors for the people you like. _Any_ person would be lucky to have you and if there’s a _nice_ one that’s ignoring you, you just let me know and I’ll knock some sense into them until they pay attention to you.”

He just looks at her, head cocked, mouth slightly open. “I offered the same thing,” he finally says. “You wouldn’t let me.”

Cora catches her lower lip in her teeth. “I had my reasons.”

“Yeah. So do I.”

The silence that falls isn’t bad, which surprises her. She can hear the movie faintly through the door; she’s pretty sure they’re starting a battle from the way the music is going. She nudges his shoulder. “We don’t want to miss them blowing up the Death Star.” She reaches past him to grab a soda from the counter, passing him a bottle and taking one for herself.

When they walk back into the living room, Derek is still on one end of the sofa, with Allison and Scott curled together at the other end, Isaac sitting on the floor, leaning back against their legs. Jackson and Lydia have claimed the loveseat, which leaves a pile of pillows and the bean bag on the floor. Cora sinks onto the bean bag, and a moment later Stiles wedges himself in with her, laughing when she punches him lightly. She ends up half sliding off, curling towards him, her head on his thigh and his arm on her shoulder.

She wants to tell him he’s a good friend, but she’s afraid he’d get the wrong idea. And she doesn’t want to change anything, not right now when it’s about as perfect as it’s ever been.

#

Cora wakes up when the Ewoks are dancing to their ridiculous little yub-yub song. She blinks into the darkness, staring at the clock on the other side of the room for a long moment before she realizes that it’s almost three in the morning. They’d taken breaks between each film for food and the bathroom, and by the time the third is ending, it’s late.

Aside from the movie, and the soft sound of sleepy breaths, the room is silent. She is still curled on the bean bag, but now she is sharing it with Stiles, her head pillowed on his chest, his arm heavy across her back. She can hear his heart beat as she lies there, feel his chest rise and fall with every breath.

She should probably move, right?

He’s going to be embarrassed when he wakes up and she’s drooled on his t-shirt. He’s going to think she’s clingy. He’s going to wonder why she didn’t just go up to her own room, why she stayed curled into an uncomfortable position when she’s in her own house and doesn’t have to stay here.

Derek’s gone, after all. She doesn’t remember him leaving, but the sofa has been claimed by Scott, Isaac and Allison instead, sleeping tangled together. Jackson and Lydia are gone as well, and Cora vaguely remembers that, something about _privacy_ that made her cheeks go hot when they said it.

The arm around her shoulder tightens; she can’t move if she tries.

She glances at Stiles and he’s awake, those tawny eyes staring back at her in the darkness. She should say something, she’s sure of it. There are so many things she should say, and here in the dark she still can’t get up the courage to let any of them out.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against her forehead, a touch so light she could almost have imagined it. His mouth moves down to kiss the tip of her nose, and her eyes flicker closed in response.

She imagines the touch—butterfly soft—against her lips.

It’s a perfect start to a dream, so she lets her head fall back against his chest and slides back into the dreamlands, accompanied by the beat of his heart.

#

Cora wakes up alone. She untangles herself from the bean bag and stretches as she slowly stands, reaching up towards the low ceiling. The basement is a perfect place to entertain, set up like an in-law apartment with a huge living room and a small kitchen. She can hear noise in the kitchen—things banging, a coffee pot dripping. She pads over and opens the door to find Stiles and Derek working side by side at the stove.

Stiles and Derek, of course.

She rubs at her eyes. “What happened to everyone else?”

“I’m pretty sure their night came to the obvious conclusion somewhere around five,” Stiles says, gesturing with the spatula. “Which means more pancakes for us.”

“Great.” She pushes at her hair, trying to finger comb out the tangles and sure it just looks like a birds nest, which is _such_ an attractive look. “So Lydia and Jackson left to fuck earlier, and Isaac’s probably getting lucky right about now—”

“It was hours ago,” Stiles tells her. “It’s ten now. They’re probably sleeping again.”

She sticks her tongue out. “Whatever. The plan worked. Isaac’s got Allison and Scott and he’ll be happy and _oh God_ I don’t even want to think about it. Isaac has _two_ people.” And she has none.

Derek switches off the burner under the eggs and quickly scoops some onto a plate, then nabs two pancakes. “I’m going upstairs.”

Cora cocks her head. “That was abrupt.” He’s gone before she gets the words out, without even a snarky comment as he leaves.

“You yelled at him last night about leading me on, remember?” Stiles offers her a plate with two pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse heads. “I’m guessing he’ll be wary around you for a bit, because he’s not really as much of an ass as he pretends to be. He’ll figure out how to apologize to you eventually, but I think right now he’s trying to figure out why the hell he should apologize to _you_ , since you yelled at him, and it’s conflicting with the idea that maybe he actually needs to apologize to me.” As soon as she takes the plate, he picks up the last one and dishes out pancakes and eggs for himself. “The thing is, he doesn’t need to apologize to me. Which he will figure out eventually.”

“Why are you still here?” It is far too early in the morning, and Cora’s heart is racing with nerves, her stomach churning too much to let her eat. She’s alone with Stiles in the kitchen in her basement and she’s not sure if she was dreaming things last night or if they actually happened. “Because, the movie marathon’s over, isn’t it? You slept, you can eat and go home.”

“Well, yes, I’m eating.” He holds up the plate. “And I’ll probably borrow a shower later because I probably stink. But I also might dispute the idea that the marathon’s over. You told me you had all six movies.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, and you know as well as I do that the other three are really awful. We don’t have to watch them.”

“Maybe I want to.” Stiles shoves the last of the pancakes in his mouth all at once and has to work to swallow it while Cora watches him. He talks around the remains. “Maybe I want to hang out here for a while.”

“Because Derek might come back downstairs.”

He just looks at her for a long moment. “Yeah, sure, because Derek might come back downstairs.”

That’s all it takes to flush the wind from her sails. She was dreaming. She had to have been dreaming. She sets the plate down, eggs and pancakes untouched. “I’m going to go hit the shower before it gets too late. We can start the first movie after you get a turn to do the same.”

He reaches out, just touching her lightly on the arm. “Cora.”

“What?” She looks at him, and she doesn’t know how to parse the intensely serious expression on his face. She’s never seen Stiles like this, like he’s focussing so carefully on something he has to say and hasn’t quite figured out how to put it. His mouth opens, then closes, and she starts to turn away.

“I don’t _care_ if Derek comes back downstairs.” His words rush out and she barely has time to process them before his mouth is over hers and he’s kissing her for real.

Stiles Stilinski is kissing Cora Hale, and it’s wet and a little messy and definitely awkward because she’s not sure she’s doing it right. She doesn’t have a lot to compare it to, and she doesn’t want to get it wrong, so when he starts to pull back she grabs his shoulders and starts it all over again. She tilts her head this time, her lips slightly parted, teeth scraping against his lip like she’s seen in the movies. He makes a funny sound and she likes that so she does it again one more time before he tries it on her and she feels it like lightning shivering through her body.

“Whoa.”

“I’m hoping that’s a good reaction.”

She blinks and smiles, hoping she doesn’t look as absolutely and completely besotted as she feels. “It is. Took you long enough.”

“Took _me_ long enough?” He blinks at her in surprise, then throws his hands wide. “I have been flirting with you _all summer_ , Cora, and you _still_ tried to pair me up with everyone but you! Instead you’ve been teasing me about this guy you’ve got a thing for, and you wouldn’t even tell me who it was, which made me pretty damned sure I didn’t have a chance. So I figured I just had to take it, since we were here and you were _still_ trying to tell me that I’m sniffing after Derek, which isn’t true and hasn’t been true for a long time.”

“What?” Her mouth is slightly open, eyes wide. She licks her lips, mouth gone completely dry. “You have _not_. I have had a crush on you for _years_ , you asshole.” She pushes lightly at his chest, not really _angry_ , but still wanting to get her point across. “But I’ve always been the little sister and it’s always been _Derek this_ and _Lydia that_ and you and the unattainable beautiful people and here I am, just this dork who’s younger than you and you never even _looked_ at me like that. It’s like I’m Derek’s shadow. Hell, I’m everyone’s shadow. I’m the Hale you can forget, because Laura’s intelligent, and Derek’s a sports star, and Sam’s a musical prodigy and I’m just dorky old me.”

“I _like_ dorky you.” He cocks his head, thumb brushing along her bottom lip, and oh _God_ , she feels that straight to places she didn’t think actually connected with her lip. “Are we actually fighting about who liked the other first?”

“First kiss and first fight within five minutes, I think that might be a record,” Cora muses.

“I’m familiar with the Hale temperament,” Stiles says dryly. “I can’t really be surprised if it’s a bumpy ride.”

“How about we get back to the kissing part?” Cora catches her lower lip in her teeth, hopeful.

“I thought you were going to shower?” He says that, but he still moves closer to her again, hands on her waist, comfortable and close.

She leans in and bumps noses with him, seeing what it’s like to brush her lips against his, tongue peeking out to taste him before she kisses him properly with a sigh. “It can wait,” she murmurs, because really, _everything_ can wait.

#

They eventually do finish breakfast, clean up, shower, and throw the first Star Wars movie in. Cora can’t resist throwing popcorn at the screen, laughing at young Anakin while she snuggles close to Stiles, and he shuts her up with a kiss. It’s a good thing the movies are bad because they spend more time kissing than they do actually watching, which is just fine with her.

Her phone buzzes when they’re taking a break between movies—Stiles is off in the bathroom while Cora pulls out cookies and crackers and cheese and some fruit for snacks—so she answers it. She smiles to see Isaac’s _hey_ and texts him back quickly.

_Hey yourself. I hear rumors you might have had a great night?_

She can imagine his laugh when the text returns. _More like morning, but yeah, definitely. What about you? Little bird is complaining to Scott that he can’t get into his own basement to watch the game today._

Cora’s torn between shouting it to the world and wanting to keep it to herself, just for a little bit longer. And this is Isaac, so she can’t resist giving him the deadpan answer. _Well, everyone left. Someone has to finish the marathon. We’ve already watched the first of the awful ones._

She’s staring at her phone, waiting for an answer when Stiles comes back in and steals a cookie. “Who’re you talking to?”

“Isaac,” she says. “Apparently Derek’s whining about not being able to watch the game down here.”

“I heard him. Your folks told him to shut up and watch on his own TV and give us some privacy.”

Cora flushes brightly. “Oh. Well.”

Stiles gives her a lopsided grin. “I like your parents.”

The phone buzzes, and she glances at it. _Spill, Cora. Did the plan work out for you, too? Are you having a great day?_

“Come on.” Stiles takes her hand, tugging her back into the living room while he carries the platter of food. She nabs two water bottles and goes with him, laughing. “Let Isaac go,” he tells her. “Tell him we’ll all meet up for pizza later—them, and Jackson and Lydia, and we’ll even grab Mr. Grumpypants to bring along.”

She texts all that quickly, then adds one more thing, sending it just before she drops the phone on the side table, determined to ignore it so she can snuggle in close to Stiles and ignore two more movies while kissing him.

_To answer your earlier question:  HALE YES!!_


End file.
